


The rising tide

by sketzocase



Category: All New Wolverine, Dark Wolverine (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, And he secretly loves it, Angry Logan, Daken’s got too damn many sisters, F/M, Gabby being Gabby, Internalized Victim Blaming, Light Angst, M/M, Parental verbal abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sister chat, Troubled narrator, Verbal Abuse, child in ‘danger’ by means of unaccompanied taxi hopping, sibling feels, sniktfam, talk of prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 14:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketzocase/pseuds/sketzocase
Summary: Daken has a drunken rant into the ear of one of his favorite x-men about his most decidedly least favorite x-men. The rant turns into a hell of a juicy story that eventually gets back to said x-man. Now Daken’s a step from being disowned and just skipping town. It’s up to his little sisters (particularly the littlest one) to save the day and show their brother just where he fits into all of this.





	1. Pissing off the overlord

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all. I know in my earlier fics I said you could message me on tumblr if you wanted. However, I have been run off tumblr by means of shitty anons and suicide baiting. Like run off, run off. The account is deleted. If you were one of my followers- I am so sorry. I left a brief explanation but I don’t know if it stayed up when the blog was deleted.  
> It sucked- I was on there for five years. And basically had to give up my slice of fandom at the hands of someone else. But- hey. I’m going to keep writing so I guess it’s not all bad. If anything- it’s less distraction. 
> 
> Anywho- thanks for reading! Leave me a comment or a kudos or what have you and let me know what you think!

Rumors are something that spread like wild fire around the super hero community. We can’t help it- we get bored and literally EVERYONE works with one another at some point. 

So when you hear really good gossip... well it’s hard to pass up. It’s even harder not to pass ON. 

The current gossip, however, does not sit well with me- mainly because it deals so much with my family. My family that prefers to keep things on the down low- as it were. We’re private people. Which in part is why I think this rumor is spreading as much as it is.

It’s origin is stupid.... beyond stupid. Downright idiotic if you ask me. A drunken rant into the ear of the wrong x-man that got repeated into the ear of an even worse x-man that got leaked into the Avengers circle that got put somewhere in some super hero gossip rag and then eventually... got back to him. 

Since he’s revived we’ve had maybe two conversations that have lasted more than five minutes. The first where I politely (in my opinion) told him I was glad he was back from the dead and he awkwardly thanked me for looking after Laura- as if she needed looking after. The second after an awkward dinner Laura hosted to try and ‘facilitate family bonding’. I am uncomfortable around him- it makes her uneasy. I can’t help it. I just am. The more they push us together the more my mind rebels. I can’t get over it- and believe me- I’m trying. The last thing I want to do is give him this power over me. Especially now that’s he’s pulled one of his ‘look I’m alive again!’ Tricks. 

So I’ve been drinking. In excess. I drink on dates, I drink on my own, I drink with my sisters- I drink. 

The rant of epic portions happened three nights ago. 

I was drinking with my favorite x-man- Laura and Gabby excluded, of course- and may have bitched somewhat of a fit into his eager little x-ears. Apparently- it worried him. He tried to talk to a friend about how to talk to the man in question on his own- mend bridges. Which I’ve told him not to do but fuck if he listens to me. He’s the ‘seasoned x-man’ right? He knows best. 

Whatever. 

I bitched to him. He consulted the girlfriend/fiancé/whatever the hell she is. She mentioned it to her ex-husband/really good friend who happens to be an Avenger. He mentions it to the other Avengers- the running theory being he was trying to help his friend ‘mend bridges’. A father and son’s bond should be special- after all. His was with his father. Why shouldn’t Logan have that? 

He doesn’t bring it up to Logan directly though- oh no. It’s gone through the rings now. The x-men are talking about it- meaning the students are talking about it. The Avengers are talking about it- meaning it’s spreading. Someone who is yet to be named, mentions it to a member of the press in passing. Journalist of the year runs with it. It gets printed. Large print. Slandering my father’s ‘Good name’.... all because I got drunk and ran my mouth off. 

Laura sent me the link to the article this morning and I haven’t put my phone down since. I haven’t heard from Logan but I can imagine what his reaction would be... or will be. The only question is- will he give it to me in person or via phone? I should be working on my responses... but I can’t. I’m dissecting the article. Breaking it down phrase by phrase by phrase. Line by line. Word by word. The story’s become far more twisted in it’s various retellings. It’s not painting a pleasant light for either of us at this point. 

The first thing I received after the link was a message from Bobby. Apologizing. Begging for forgiveness. I’ve honestly been too distracted to respond. I’ll let him stew in his misery for a while as I think of a proper way to express my scorn. 

This article did not go easy on the man of the hour. I.... I don’t know- I almost feel bad. Almost.

I shouldn’t- all I did was tell the truth. If he looks like a bad father in front of his friends- it’s because he is a bad father. He deserves to be called out on his bullshit. 

Would I have used this author’s particular words? No. 

Do I take back any of what I said? Also no. 

More importantly will I apologize to him? Fuck no. He deserves a little side eye for all the shit he’s pulled. 

My phone buzzes in my hand, calling my attention back to the screen. Unknown number. 

Not a good sign. 

I hesitate for a brief second before deciding not to answer. If it’s him- which it may very well be- it’s not my job to soothe his bruised ego. The ball is in my court. The game is mine to call. The-

Fuck. The number left a voicemail. 

Telemarketer? It could be. 

Why do I have this feeling of dread while staring at the little red notification hovering over the phone icon? 

I don’t care what he thinks. I don’t care to hear what he has to say. 

Fuck it might not even be him at all. 

What am I getting so worked up about? 

I’ve become so entangled in x-men that I can’t begin to sort out how to avoid them. Which means I can’t begin to sort out how to avoid him. 

I take solace in the fact that he has no clue where I live. 

Spares me a ‘heart to heart’ in person. 

He’s probably pissed. 

If someone had printed an article like that about me- I know I would be. 

Maybe it’s best to just... lay low until all of this blows over. 

It’s just one article. The magazine isn’t even that popular. 

Maybe I should focus my attention on figuring out which of my would be ‘friends and colleagues’ talked to the press in the first place. Who thought this was juicy enough gossip to spread to someone outside of our community. 

I feel oddly betrayed. 

God forbid it ever leak into the hands of someone I know. 

To a certain domineering father figure from the past- perhaps? I’d die. 

Not that that’s a very big concern seeing as pretty much everyone from my ‘old’ life wants absolutely nothing to do with me. 

The phone starts to buzz again. 

Different number- still unknown. 

Not blocked- however. Whoever it is isn’t hiding their number. 

My question is now- how do so many people have this number? 

It’s a new phone. I’ve given the number to a total of fifteen people. All of whom are in my contacts- which would show if they called me. 

Yet another case of someone having ‘loose lips’ as it were. 

The phone stops buzzing a second before the red icon switches from displaying a ‘1’ to a ‘2’. 2 voicemails. Two different people within five minutes of each other. 

Interesting. 

I put the phone down and look about my kitchen. Modern. Clean. Everything in it’s place. 

Of course it is- I haven’t used it in well over three days. All of my meals have been liquid. 

I glance at the tequila through somewhat bleary eyes. It sits in the table in front of me along with a discarded salt shaker and a small basket of limes. Originally placed there to ease the sting of the tequila but easily forgotten when the process got too bothersome. 

I like my current apartment. It’s a newish one. To be honest I’ve been spending a lot of time with the x-men. I haven’t needed it. I kept the rent up and paid the maid service just in case I needed a hide out. Which I knew I would eventually. 

It’s not my fault that these things happen to me. Honestly all I did was tell the truth. 

He can’t handle anything going against his ‘honor’. He’s a ‘great father’. ‘Caring’, ‘loving’, ‘kind’, ‘gentle’- yea right. I felt very ‘cared’ for when he was drowning me. I felt very ‘loved’ every time we fought. As for ‘gentle’ and ‘kind’ refer to the above statements. 

I’ve got a bit of a chip on my shoulder - yes. But he put it there! Knowingly! Why should I have to be sorry? Why should I have to do all the work? Why should I have to shoulder the burden of caring? 

I don’t care. I don’t want to care. More importantly than that- I don’t need to care. It’s bad for me and it’s messing me up. The stress is too much. Surely he’ll understand me shrugging it off to do what’s in my best interest. It’s what he would do. He puts himself first and foremost. 

I hate that a small nagging part of my mind is telling me that’s not the truth. He puts his students first and foremost. His team. His family. 

We may share blood- but I have not earned the title of ‘family’. 

He’s been more accepting of Gabby- who he literally just met- than he has of me. 

He was meant to have daughters. All of his ‘wards’ are girls. He and Laura share a bond like no other. Looks like Gabby’s going to get a piece of that bond as well. He’s willing to share his heart and his wisdom with his daughters. 

Sons? 

Please. He doesn’t want sons. 

Sons are too... déclassé. 

Too bothersome. 

Too... fucked up. 

If my head wasn’t so fucked-

No. That’s not a realm of thought I’m letting my brain dive into. It’s not my fault. I won’t apologize for the mountains of damage I’ve amassed due to his negligence. It’s his fault. everything is his fault. And he knows it. He knows it and he hides behind ‘honor’ and ‘dignity’ and ‘heroism’. He’s like me. More like me than he is like them. And somehow yet- I’m still unwanted. It’s perplexing. 

The driving need for a father figure in my life is baffling. I don’t know. It goes along with my ‘issues’. My driving force behind my daily functions. 

At least that’s what the last three men I’ve dated have said. 

Says something for the ‘type’ I’m going for lately. 

My kitchen table is larger than it needs to be. The dark wood is long and polished- easily able to seat at least seven or eight even though I refuse to entertain more than three people at a time. 

The color of the table goes well with the white carpet and the gray walls. The size complimenting the open floor plan of the apartment. 

All in all this housing is worth every penny. I truly like it here- I can’t say that for a lot to the places I’ve lived. Most the time housing arrangements are made out of necessity. This one was made because I legitimately wanted it. It suits my new ‘change of lifestyle’. 

I push the large, wide bottomed, bottle of tequila away from me, thinking that perhaps I’ve had enough for the early morning hours. It’s only nine AM, after all and I’ve had nine shots. 

Not that I’m nearly anywhere near drunk- mind you. My tolerance is something to behold, truly. 

I recline in my chair, trying to push everything from my mind and having little luck. 

My mind keeps coming back to the conversation I’m inevitably going to have to have with my father. It will probably lead to bloodshed- it always does with him. 

There’s not going to be any talking my way out of it. Or around it. He’ll want to dive straight into the logistics of the problem- which in his mind will be me. To be honest in his mind- the root the problem is always me. 

Always-

There’s a knock at the door. 

Interesting. 

I’m not expecting anyone.

I stand to my feet and walk the short distance from the kitchen to the front door just in time for whoever is trying to visit to knock again. 

Persistent are we? 

I open the door to Bobby, standing there in a wonderfully tight pair of blue jeans. 

“Hey,” he says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. 

“If it isn’t the traitor himself,” I say dryly. 

“Don’t be like that,” he groans. “I didn’t mean to spread your business- honest.” 

“Your intentions don’t seem to matter much at this point.” I say sourly. 

Bobby hangs his head. “Can I come in?” 

I hum loudly. “I’m not sure.” I can’t help but smirk. “Are you going to properly apologize?” 

“‘Properly apologize’?” He asks with a grin. 

I nod. “I’m very hurt.” 

“Oh we don’t want you to be hurt.” Bobby’s grin widens as I open the door far enough to let him in. 

He stands by the white couch from a moment before turning to me. “You changed furniture?” 

“The last couch took considerable water damage.” I smirk. 

“From....?” 

“Melted ice.” 

Bobby frowns. “Sorry.” 

“Mm... I believe I asked for you to restrain me to the couch via ice- if I’m remembering correctly.” 

“You did.” He agrees. “But I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it was going to ruin your couch.” 

“Eh, it was time for a switch anyway.” I close the front door and lock it. “Now, about your apology...” 

“Right.” He turns and grins at me. “I’m very sorry I talked to someone else about your issues. It won’t happen again.” 

“That was nice.... but it’d be more heart felt if you weren’t wearing a shirt.” I tease, crossing my arms. 

Bobby pulls off his black t-shirt and throws it on the couch. “I’m very sorry.” He says. 

“I’m starting to feel your sincerity.” I smirk. “But... with pants on it’s hard to take you seriously.” 

He peels the jeans off and stands there in his briefs. It’s a nice view- to say the least. 

“Better?” He asks with a grin. 

Oh yes. I nod. “Now I can tell you what a complete and total asshole you are while you stand there undressed like an idiot.” I say somewhat cruelly. 

Bobby looks confused. 

“Did you honestly think a little sex was going to fix this??” 

“Uh.... you ... uh... seemed like you wanted to so...” 

“Well I don’t.” I snap. “And fuck you for thinking that your magical dick could fix all my problems.” 

“YOU started this... flirty whatever it is.” He says pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not me.” 

“I just wanted you to feel naked and exposed.” I say dryly. “Like me.” 

Bobby sighs. “I didn’t mean to expose you-“ 

“That’s exactly what you meant to do!” I growl. “I told you something while I was fucked up beyond belief and you went and told someone else! I thought I could trust you!” 

Bobby moves towards me. “You ca-“ 

“Don’t come any closer.” I growl. 

He stops moving. “You can trust me,” he says. “I promise. I was trying to help.” 

“You were trying to gossip,” I accuse. “And you did- oh wow did you. The x-men are talking about it, the Avengers are talking about it, the magazines are talking about- are you happy Mr. Drake? Do you feel vindicated?” 

“Why would that make me feel vindicated?” He asks in confusion. 

“Because you once again get to prove that you’re better than me. That you’re this amazingly well put together, functional, none scarred human being who-“ 

“I was trying to help!” He snaps. 

“And who were you trying to help exactly? Hmm? It wasn’t me. Nothing about sharing that rumor could have helped me. No. You used information I gave to you WILLINGLY against ME. Did you even wait to get home to tell someone or were you texting while you were in my bed?” 

“I was trying to help.” He growls. “Really.” 

“You were trying to help him. He doesn’t need your help. He is in the wrong. He’s in the wrong and all you little heroes are going to jump out of your way to cover his ass. Like you always do.” I scoff. “God... like everyone always does.” 

“Hey-“ 

“I don’t want to hear it, Drake.” I growl. 

“Daken-“ 

“What did you think coming here would do?” I ask dryly. “That I’d forgive you? That you’d magically be able to use your smooth talking ‘Good guy’ approach and talk yourself out of this one? That you’d get me to APOLOGIZE? I’m not wrong! Literally ALL I did was tell the truth. You can’t stand that- can you? One of your ‘brave, fearless, good guy’ leaders isn’t all he cracked up to be so you have to start trying to ‘appease’ whatever heroic deity’s you worship by soothing over your faux pos. I’m not buying it. You want to know why I said those things? Hmm?” 

“Look-“ 

“Because they’re true.” I snap. “Because he is a heartless, cruel minded, arrogant, blood thirsty, careless, murderous, animal. And you worship him. All you little worker bees. You drones. Barely a thought of originality between a whole team of you! Your glorious leader can’t possibly be in the wrong- can he? Oh no. It’s got to be Daken. Daken’s the messed up one. Obviously he’s LYING. Obviously he’s DERANGED. Obviously-“ 

Bobby moves forward and pulls me into a tight embrace- which I was not expecting. 

“What do you think you’re doing???” I snarl, pushing him back. 

“I’m trying to comfort you.” He says, looking down. “I didn’t mean for it to come off like any of that. I just want you and Logan to have some semblance of a bond. That’s it. What you said was really fucked up... and I wanted to get the two of you help. Don’t you want a bond with your dad?? All your siblings have one. I know it wasn’t my place to interfere-“ 

“You’re right.” I say coldly. “It’s not.” 

“Daken- you’re so closed off. You’re so... angry. At everyone. At the world in general. Life hasn’t been kind to you- I get that... okay? I do. You have your reasons- and I know that. I was just trying to give you a means to form a relationship that could help with some of that.” 

“He is the direct cause of ALL of that!” I snarl. “I can’t ‘form a relationship’ that will help with this! Don’t you think in my vast years of living I would have tired that by now if it was that fucking easy???” 

“Daken-“ 

“You meddled.” I jab my finger into his bare chest. “You wanted to make things better for him. I- once again- was an afterthought.” 

“Daken, please.” Bobby says gently. “That’s not true-“ 

“Now you’re telling me what’s true and what’s not??” I snort. “You’re looking out for your friend. Don’t disillusion yourself thinking this has anything to do with my benefit. I made a mess. You’re trying to get me to clean it up. I won’t- Drake. I won’t do it. So the world sees him for what he is- good. Do you know how hard is looking at the man who literally killed you get PRAISE for being such a heroic person? Do you know how HORRIBLE that makes me feel?” I stop. “No. Of course you don’t. Why would you? You only need one side of the story. Any other side and you start running your mouth off with ‘juicy gossip’.” 

“I should go.” He says after a moment of silence. 

“You’re right.” I agree. “You should.” 

He nods. “I’ll give you some time to cool off.” 

“A pleasure I am much grateful for, oh mighty heroic one.” I snort. 

Bobby starts to dress with his back to me. 

“Daken.... I’m sorry- okay? I fucked up.” He turns back around. “But I was trying to help. And for what it’s worth- I think you should talk to your dad. You opened this can of worms... might be a good opportunity to fix some of this damage.” He winces. “Just a thought.” 

Fuck him. 

Fuck his ‘thoughts’. And ‘intentions’. He screwed me over. He screwed me over and then honestly thought he could fuck me and it would all just blow over. It’s like he knows absolutely nothing about me. Or maybe... contrary wise- he knows too much? 

“You were made to hate your dad.” He says, by the door. “He was never made to hate you.” 

“Fuck you.” I growl. “Get out of my home.” 

Bobby holds his hands up. “I’ll text you later.” 

“I won’t reply.” I say dryly. 

“I’ll text anyway... on the off chance that you do.” he looks over his shoulder. “You mean a lot to me Daken.... just thought you should know that.” 

Yea. Right. 

“Get out.” I say. 

He leaves without another word- which I’m insanely grateful for. I don’t thinkI could swallow any more of his well wishes and lost meanings. I’m not up for the challenge. 

I collapse on my sofa- feeling the leather underneath me .It’s nice. I like nice things. 

This situation I’m in is not nice. I can’t even begin to make heads or tails of it. Let alone explain it to myself. 

I’m angry. 

I’m betrayed. 

I’m being talked about- probably perceived as weak for admitting what I did. 

But I thought I could trust him. That’s what I keep coming back to. I thought I could trust him. I let my guard down and once again someone turned around and slammed it in my face. Why does this always happen to me? I can’t trust anyone. ANYONE. It makes me... lonely. I want what normal people have. While being cold and heartless has it’s advantages- I’d like to come home to someone every once in a while. I’d like to be able to text someone when I need them without having to give them something in return. 

I’d like for someone to see past the million walls I’ve been forced to throw up and take me as I am- all of me. The mess. The disastrous mess that is the actuality of me. 

I can’t believe he thought I wanted a fuck for an apology. 

Does he really not know me at all? 

Is that really all I’m good for- still? A good fuck? 

That’s what keeps him coming back- isn’t it? Surely it’s not my personality. Surely it’s not my mind- as fucked up as it is as of late. 

No. I’ve got a hot body and a handsome face. I’m a good lay. 

It keeps men momentarily entertained but then when I let them in- when I let them slide past my guard- they turn around and pull this shit. 

It’s better to be alone. 

No one can hurt me when I’m alone. 

No one can betray me. 

No one can.... use me. 

I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out. 

Fuck. This Bobby things got me more upset than I realized. 

All he wants is a good fuck. All he wants is a small walk on the wild side in contained, healthy, well proportioned doses. 

He doesn’t like me. He likes the image I present. The bad boy. The party boy. The fucking fuck toy. 

They all do.

Get real and they go running for the hills. 

I do this to myself, of course. My misery is of course of my own creation. It always has been. Isn’t that the lesson Master so lovingly beat into my head? It’s my fault. Deep down- it’s always been fault. My entire life worth of suffering wouldn’t be if I could just fucking stay dead. If I hadn’t survived ‘birth’ in the first place. 

Master’s torments were because I was weak. 

Logan’s torments were because I was evil. 

The world’s because I was different. 

I’ve been punished for anything and everything since i can remember. Even the pigment of my skin- which I couldn’t help. The color of my eyes. The fact that every where I go- everywhere in my entire existence of being- I am an outsider. 

Ugh. What’s the point of being upset about it? It’s too late to do anything now. 

I’ll have to leave town. 

I don’t know for how long... but it will be a while. 

...I should call Laura. 

She and Gabby are the only consolation prizes I’ve gotten out of this shit show that is my life. I should do them the favor of telling them where I’ll be if they need me. 

Unlike everyone else- Laura won’t tell. 

Laura’s not like other people. 

She understands. 

I think that’s what draws me to her. 

She’s not one that’s big on pity- but she has a shoulder to lean on when needed. 

Fuck do I need it right now. 

Unfortunately for me- I’m not allowed to accept that kind of ‘help’. Even from her. It goes against everything I’ve been trained on. On everything I’ve spent my life working towards. 

If I start dismantling his lessons one by one- I’ll realize that they’re all bullshit. Which logically- I know. I know they are. But.... I’m not ready to part with them. For so long they were the only thing that gave my life meaning. Even though they are completely meaningless now- I’ve put too much blood and effort into upholding them at this point. To not to... well... it would just feel... empty. 

It was abuse. It was rape. It was torture. 

I’m not an idiot- I can admit those things.... to myself at any rate. 

What I can’t bring myself to swallow is that he did it pointlessly. 

He valued me. He.... god. He loved me. He had to love me. You don’t do things to someone like that if you don’t love them. 

He had to feel something. At least a little spark of something. 

If not.... well then....

I don’t want to think about it. Why am I thinking about it? This is not helpful. I need to focus. 

Magazine article.... impending fight with my father.... get away plans. Something. 

The phone buzzes again. I hear it from my spot on the couch. 

At this point I might as well shut it off. I’m not answering. You couldn’t pay me to answer. 

I close my eyes and focus on thinking of absolutely nothing. Listen to my heartbeat, my breathing, hear the air conditioner whirring in the background. 

Basically try to slip into a state of non existence. Right now- honestly- I think it would be better for everyone (myself included) if I did not exist. 

If I could just stay dead. God. Why does it never stick for me? 

The phone starts ringing in a different tone- a FaceTime tone. Someone wants to chat face to face- I take it. 

I climb up from the couch and walk into the kitchen, picking up the phone and observing the unknown number. Whoever this is- they’re getting desperate. 

I find myself answering the call without really meaning to. 

I don’t know whose image i was expecting to pop up- but future stepmonster was not it. 

“Isn’t this a surprise.” I say before she can say anything. 

Ororo is beautiful- without a doubt. Few can compare. Her face has minimal makeup on it but still shines with an almost otherworldly beauty. 

“I was hoping to catch you.” She says pleasantly. 

“I’m surprised you did.” I say. “How did you get this number?” 

Ororo pauses for a second. “Your sister.” 

“Laura...”I groan. 

“Gabby.” She corrects.

“Ah.” Well that makes slightly more sense. “What do you want?” 

“To invite you to lunch.” She says almost sweetly. “We need to talk.” 

“If you’re reaching out on behalf of your ‘partner’,” I growl, “I’ll have to happily decline.” 

“Hang up.” Someone says in the background. 

“Darling-“ 

“Hang the fucking phone up.” The surly voice snarls. 

Ororo looks off to the side. “Someone needs to talk to him-“ 

“He don’t need anyone to talk to him.” The voice snarls. 

Ah. The man of the hour. 

“Logan- he’s your son.” Ororo says pointedly. 

“I don’t have a son.” Logan growls. 

Harsh. 

“Don’t say that-“ 

“The feeling is mutual.” I growl. 

There’s a snort. “You proud of yourself?” He demands, not coming on screen. “Really proud of yourself? I got people all over me. They’re saying I shouldn’t be allowed near kids. I’m in hell right now- you gotta be really happy.” 

“All I did was tell the truth.” I snarl. 

“The TRUTH??” he yells. “From whose perspective??? You’re fucked in the head- you know that? Really. You are FUCKED in the head.” 

“Logan.” Ororo says patiently, “Would you like to hold the phone?” 

“NO.” He snaps. “I don’t want to talk to him.” 

“You should-“

 

God I need a drink. Or four. Or ten. 

“No, he shouldn’t.” I argue. “He doesn’t want to be my father- fine. he’s not much of one anyway. Disown me- Logan. Cast me out. Do what you do best- eliminate all of your fucking problems.” 

“You don’t know shit.” He hisses. “You never did. You never try to understand. You never let me explain-“ 

“You fucking drowned me!” I yell. 

“You made me do it!” 

Ororo turns her attention back to me. “Come to lunch with me and your sisters.” She says. “I promise he won’t be there.

“I’ll pass.” I growl. 

“Of course you will.” Logan huffs. “Because fixing your messes isn’t something you do- is it?” 

“Fuck you.” I snarl. 

“Fuck me?? FUCK me??? Oh you are something.” he chuckles darkly. “Boy if we end up in the same room I swear to god I am taking you over my knee and beating the ever loving shit out of you.” 

That shouldn’t effect me as much as it does but.... 

“Fuck you.” I repeat, hanging up the phone. 

The nerve. The fucking nerve! He wants me gone??? Fine- I’ll go. It’s like he’s the first father figure to walk out of my life. 

I slam the phone back onto the table and storm into my room, pulling out a black duffle bag from the closet and starting to fill it with every item of clothing I can get my hands on. 

I don’t need this. 

I don’t need him. 

I don’t need them. 

All I ever needed was myself. I’m the only person I can rely on. I’m the only person I can trust. 

Because people leave. People hurt you. People betray you. People-

The door to my apartment starts to push open, drawing me to attention. 

I’m a second from lounging when a small head pokes in and says, “Bad timing- don’t stab please!” 

I exhale slowly. “Gabby.” 

The small girl pushes the door fully open, walking in. “Hey.” She says with a wave. “Thank you for not stabbing. I didn’t want holes in my clothes.” 

I take her in for a second. “What are you wearing?” I ask finally.  
“You don’t like it?” She motions to her mix of baggy black and yellow hoodie with the multi colored, mismatched tights. 

“You look like you dressed in the dark.” I have to admit I’m smiling a little. “Doesn’t Laura check your clothes before you leave?” 

Gabby hums to herself. “She doesn’t know I’m gone.” She says finally. 

Ah. “How did you get here?” I ask. 

“Took a cab.” She walks in and sits on my couch. “We gotta talk Mr.” 

“Spare me.” I cross my arms and watch her extremely at ease position. “We should call Laura and tell her where you are.” 

“Yea- we could do that.” Gabby nods. “Or- or- you could tell me what’s going on. Sibling to sibling.” 

“You came all this way- on your own- for a heart to heart?” I have admit I’m impressed. 

She nods, patting the couch with her hand. “Sit down.” 

I smirk and sit on the couch beside her- humoring her. “It’s nothing.” I say. “Nothing you should be worried about at any rate.” 

“I’m not worried.” She says. “I’m concerned. Things are going great with everyone... but you.” 

I inhale deeply. “I’m fine.” 

“You’re angry and you’re lashing out.” She says. “You need help.” 

“I don’t need anything.” I assure her. “It’ll blow over.” 

“Logan’s really mad.” She says. 

“He’s always mad.” I dismiss. 

“Not like ‘mad’ mad- hurt mad.” She says. 

He didn’t seem ‘hurt mad’ when he talked to me a few minutes ago. 

“He’ll recover.”I say dryly. “He always does.” 

“You were kinda hard on him.” She says. 

“He deserves it.” I growl. 

Gabby holds her hands up. “I’m not saying he doesn’t... but maybe it would have been better to tell him to his face? I think hearing it from you would have made it easier to hear.” 

“He’s heard it from me for years.” I roll my eyes. “He has selective hearing.” 

She looks at her tennis shoes- hanging half way down the couch- but well above the floor. 

Gabby’s so... tiny. 

I’m not sure how I like the thought of her catching a cab and coming over here by herself. 

“You’re leaving?” She nods to the bag that’s fallen to the floor. 

I exhale slowly. “I don’t know.” I say honestly. 

“You shouldn’t.” She glances up at me. “You’re our big brother. We need you.” 

I have to close my eyes for a second. “No you don’t.” I say. “And you shouldn’t tell people that. They will most assuredly use it against you.” 

“You’re not going to use it against us.” She says. 

“You don’t ‘need’ me Gabby. No one ‘needs’ me. I’m not someone you call when you ‘need’ someone for anything other than violence.” 

“Of course I do!” She motions to herself. “Look how I’m dressed! Do you think Laura’s going to tell me what looks good or not??? She’s wearing the same sweat pants for like a week now!” 

I laugh. 

“Really- the ones with the holes in them?” She says. “You know the ones.” 

“Gabby...” I shake my head. “You don’t understand how this works.” 

“YOU don’t understand how this works.” She counters. “Because you’ve never tired to be a part of it.” 

A part of it? 

I’ll bite. 

“A part of what exactly?” I ask. 

“The family.” She says. “You don’t come over, you don’t hang out when we go out with Ororo, you don’t live near us.... you’re not trying very hard.” 

Ah. Our ‘family’ unit. 

“This ‘family’ does not exist.” I say quietly. 

“Sure it does.” She says. “You’re just not trying to be a part of it.” 

Fuck this kid is hitting some heart strings right now.

“... We need to call Laura and tell her where you are.” I say. 

She grabs my hand before I can leave the couch. “Daken, we need you.” She says. “Me, Laura... even Logan. Please. You’re not giving us a chance.” 

“You can have all the chances you want.” I say in what I hope is a gentle tone. “You’re not the problem.” 

She bites her lip. “Logan said... the man who made you made you like this did it on purpose. He made you not trust people. Because he hurt you so badly.... And because he was the only person you had.” She says. “And it took like.... sixty something years for him to ‘train’ you. Which isn’t really training- if you ask me. He made you fight better... and you do fight really good... but you don’t react to people properly. You can be mean by default... and I don’t think you always want to be...” 

“You know this is a off limits topic.” I sigh. 

“I know, I know!” She says. “But hear me out.” 

I stay quiet. 

“It took him sixty years to make you.... you’ve been on your own for barely ten... you met Laura a few years ago- and you let her in- you only met me a year ago... and you let me in..... Why not-“ 

“Stop.” I say. “Please. I will vomit.” 

“He’s not mad at you.” Gabby says. “He’s hurt.” 

“And when he’s ‘hurt’ I get hurt.” I say. 

“Laura and I won’t let him hurt you.” She says sincerely. “Really.” 

I shake my head. “You’re too young.” I say finally. “You don’t understand.” 

Gabby crosses her arms. “I know that I need a big brother. I just got you. I don’t want to lose you.” 

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Damnit.” 

This kid... god this kid. 

I.... 

She’s asking not to be left. 

How many adults walked out of my life when I was her age? How many people who could have helped me but didn’t? 

“You act like you don’t care...” She says. “But you do.” 

I just stare at her. “What would you have me do? Call him back? Fix everything?” 

Gabby frowns. “Maybe.... just... sit down with him.” She says. “If we could get the two of you in the same room....” 

“One of us will end up bloodied.” I say. “Probably me- with the mood he’s in.” 

“Not if Laura and I are there as buffers!” She says. 

“I don’t want to fight with him.” I say honestly. “And he doesn’t want anything to do with me. He literally just disowned me. To my face.” 

Gabby huffs, “Because he’s as bullheaded as you are.” She says. “But... we can make him listen.” 

“You can’t MAKE him listen.” I say. “I’ve trying to MAKE him listen for years. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t care enough to. Maybe if I was younger.... maybe if I wasn’t...” I gesture to myself. “Me.” 

“But we like you.” Gabby says. “You’re moody.... but you’re also really funny. And you make us eat food that isn’t fast food- other people don’t do that. You bought Laura clothes that make her look nice and... not as... prostituty?” She winces. 

“You know she doesn’t like it when you use that word.” I remind her. 

Gabby huffs. “If not for the two of you- I’d be on my own. I can’t be on my own. I need a family. It’s important for a kid my age to be well adjusted- you know.” She nods her head as if imparting sacred ‘wisdom’. 

“You have a family.” I say helpfully. “Laura, the x-men, HIM. It’s not that my leaving will really affect you that much.” 

“You know about boys.” She says. “And girls. You make funny jokes when you think no one’s listening, you show up when we need you, you help us be... us.” She says. “We’re not the same without you.” 

Fuck. 

“And I don’t think you hear that enough.” Gabby says. “But hey- if I can’t convince you to stay, at least give me a ride back to Laura’s. I didn’t have any money for the taxi cab man so I jumped out and ran. I think he’s still out there.” 

I pinch the bridge of my nose again. “If you didn’t have any money- why did you call a taxi?” 

She shrugs. “I coulda called an Uber- but I couldn’t sneakily get to Laura’s phone.” 

Third reminder that my eldest sister has no clue where she is. 

“We need to call her.” I say. “She’ll come get you.” 

“I wanna ride in your car.” She says. “One last time. If you are leaving.” 

“My car? Why would you want to ride in my car?” 

“I like it.” She shrugs. “It’s nicer than Laura’s and the top comes off. That’s cool.” 

I look back to the table. Normally I wouldn’t care but... “I’ve been drinking.” I say finally. “I can’t drive you anywhere.” If she weren’t involved, I’d have no problem getting behind the wheel. But... Gabby is a child. And I don’t want her to be in pain (however small of a period of time) from a car crash I caused in my inability to control my vices. 

“We’ll sober you up.” She says. 

“I’m not driving you.” I say, standing to my feet. “Besides- my car’s not even here.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “Where is it?” 

I roll my eyes. “I lent it to Bobby. I think he’s done something stupid and is afraid to give it back just yet.” 

“Stupid?” 

“That man is a terrible driver.” I find myself smirking against my own wishes. 

“But you let him have your car?” She asks. 

“If picked me up from the club the other night.” I recall. “I just haven’t gotten it back from him.” 

She nods. “You know on nights you’re going out- he tries to stay up until he knows you’re home?” She asks. “Just to make sure you get here alright.” 

“I.... did not know that.” 

She nods. “And he asks Laura how you are.” 

“He doesn’t care about any of that.” I say dismissively. “He only wants a small, controlled, wild fuck. Then he goes back to being the ‘good guy’ and leaves me here to stew in my evil ways.” 

“Your ways, Mister, are not that evil anymore.” 

I hiss. “That hurts.” I grin. “Really. Ow.” 

“You turned over a new leaf.” She grins in return. “Admit it. Laura, in her awesomeness, changed you. She showed you someone could care about you with no ulterior motives. Literally all she ever wanted from you was a brother. She loves you simply for existing. Just like she loves simply for existing. Have you stopped to think what you running off will do to her, exactly?” 

Laura.... doesn’t do well with people leaving her. It... hurts her more than other people. 

Not to mention she’d be left to deal with our father on her own. 

He’s proven to be a two child on deck kind of parent at times. I doubt Gabby would be up for one of his more.... animalistic sides. The thought of him going off on her- like he does me- makes my blood run cold. There’s a lot I’d kill him for- yes. That’s true. But if he hurt this child? I would completely, utterly, and unreservedly flip my shit. No holds bar. 

“If she was here- she’d ask you to stay. She’d BEG you to stay.” Gabby says. “Please.” Her eyes are big. Big in a way that only children’s can be. “Stay. We need you. Really- I have no chance for growing up with a decent fashion sense if you don’t take us out with you from time to time.” 

That makes me laugh. “If left to Laura’s devices- you are both fucked. That’s true.” I say. 

“Do you know she wore a leather mini skirt, fish nets, and a corset to a children’s birthday party???” Gabby says. “Yea. None of the other ‘adults’ wanted to be around her.” She frowns. “Except the men. But they smelled just a little too ‘friendly’ if you get what I’m saying.” 

I have to sigh. “I thought I threw that outfit out.” 

“She had like... five of them.” She says. “You threw the tan one out. This one was black.” 

Black fishnets to a child’s birthday party.... interesting choice. 

“Not to mention.... who’s she going to go to with boy trouble?” Gabby asks. “Logan? She can’t go to Logan with boy trouble! The advice is always ‘dump him, pass me a beer’.” She mocks our father’s deep voice in a humorous display. “You at least try to give her advice that will help. Ya know- when it’s not ‘fuck him’.” 

“Laura doesn’t like it when you use that word either.” I point out. 

Gabby nods. “I know. But I was quoting you so.... I get a free pass. It’s in the rule of cursing.” 

“It’s not a good sound on you.” I smile. “Doesn’t fit your disposition.” 

She shrugs. “So... are you staying?” She asks. “Have my heart felt words moved your heart of stone???”

“For the time being- I will stay.” I say after some deliberation. “But I am not happy. And I am not talking to Logan.” 

She frowns again. “Then I’ll make him talk to you.” She says with determination. 

“Gabby...” I hiss. “He’s already talked to me today. He disowned me- remember?” 

“He doesn’t mean that.” She pushes the notion away with her hand. “He never means that. Honestly I kinda think he’s afraid your mom’s gonna come back from the grave and slap him.” She smiles. “It’s a really cool head picture.” 

I exhale slowly again. “Don’t talk about my mother.” I say. “Please. I’ve been drinking. It never ends well.” 

“You miss her?” She asks. 

“I never met her.” I correct. “But yes. I guess you could say I miss her.” 

“I didn’t have a mom. Other than you know... clone Sarah for like twenty minutes before you shot her in the chest and then got your ass kicked by Laura.” She smiles. 

“Laura did not ‘kick my ass’.” I say defensively. “I just didn’t want to hurt her after putting her in that state.” 

“She kicked your ass.” Gabby laughs. “And you didn’t fight back very hard. That’s what made me know you cared. Even after three days of torture, and confusion, and being beaten to a pulp, you only raised a hand to defend yourself. You showed me how you cared right off the bat.” 

I roll my eyes. “Can we not talk about torture- either?” I ask. “Honestly.” 

Not a fond memory. 

Three days of staying completely silent while some mad man droned on and one while burning, amputating, cutting, and the various comments I had to hear about my body and appearance while I was laying there- completely naked. I don’t know why people who get tortured have to be naked. It makes it slightly worse. 

Come to think of it- maybe that’s part of the torture. 

Master used to make me be naked a lot as well. 

I mean looking back on it- it could have been just because he wanted to look at me naked at any given time. 

But... every time I’ve been tortured they’ve removed at least one article of clothing. 

So.... hmm. Hard to say. 

“Sorry.” She says quickly. “Bad memory- I know.” 

I nod. 

“You did really good though, it’s what I’m trying to say.” She says. “With the whole thing. You’re getting better at using your pheromones. You actually try to tell people that you’re doing it. And when you have bad days and do it without meaning to- you apologize.” 

“Laura’s been giving me lessons in consent.” I say absentmindedly. “I’m being more careful.” 

At least with the ‘sex’ side of things. 

I was raped. I don’t want to do anything to spread that misery. Even if it’s something as simple as making someone like me. 

So... they’re used with consent of others. The only times I don’t really ask for consent are when I’m pushing something like... fear.... or... I don’t know- unawareness. Protecting myself- basically. 

I’ve sort of become disillusioned by the idea of sex in general. 

I enjoy it at times- but not all the time. 

I don’t want people to use me solely for my body. 

Kinda what pissed me off about Bobby this morning. 

“They’re working.” Gabby says proudly. 

I nod. 

“We need to call Laura now.” I say. 

“Cool. Call her.” Gabby says. “I’m going to watch your TV.” 

“No cartoons.” I say, going to the kitchen to pick up my phone. “I can’t stand the sound of them.” 

“I only made you watch spongebob like.... three times.” She says, grabbing the remote off the table. 

“That’s three times to many.” I snort, walking into the kitchen and picking up my phone, unlocking it and seeing that Laura’s actually texted me in somewhat of a panic looking for Gabby. “She knows you’re gone.” I call into the living room. “And she’s freaking out.” 

Against my wishes, I hear the damn Spongebob theme. 

“Cool!” She calls back. “Tell her I’m fine- but I’ve made an enemy with the taxi cab people of New York.” 

“I thought you only took one taxi.” I say while texting Laura with a run down of what happens. 

“I’ve actually done this twice.” She says sheepishly. “I got lost this morning trying to get here. It took two taxis.” 

I shake my head, hitting send. “Gabby.” Is all I can think to say. 

I walk back to the living room- watching as she kicks off her tennis shoes and reclines into the couch. She catches me looking at pats the sofa cushion beside her. “Come on.” She says tin a grin. “The shows really easy to keep up on.” 

“It’s trash.” I say, joining her anyway. 

“It’s trash.” She agrees. “But it’s fun trash. And fun trash is the best kind of trash.” 

“Fine.” I say. “We will only watch this until Laura arrives though- got it?” 

She nods. “Got it.” 

“Good.” I prop my feet up on the coffee table. I’m in my lounge wear so it’s not like it’s terribly uncomfortable to begin with. 

Laura texts a few moments into me closing my eyes- asking when’s he got here, if she’s okay, blah blah blah. I assure her everything is fine and that she needs to come get her because I don’t have my car and I’ve been drinking.


	2. The overlord remains pissed (prelude)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update. 
> 
> So I talked about this on tumblr- but I'm basically going through and updating at least one chapter on pretty much everything. I'm gonna do this about once a month until everything is wrapped up. 
> 
> This one was well overdue. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> If you wouldn't mind, please leave a kudos or a comment to tell me how I'm doing! 
> 
> (The next fic to be updated is "I meant it when I said I wanna get well" Followed by "Daken and the terrible...." So you can be on the lookout for those!) 
> 
> Please enjoy!

“So... Peter said-“

Gabby goes on and on about the personal lives of the x-men.

I try not to look too terribly bored.

I’m not trying to be distant- not really. I just don’t give a flying fuck about those people or their personal lives.

My phone vibrates in my hand- another text from Bobby.

I... regret it now- but I did answer the first text when he texted to make sure I was alright.

I answered in a snarky, angry way- but I still answered.

I think it’s given him the push he needs to keep texting.

OR to at least assume that I will cause him no bodily harm if he keeps it up.

God. Times were easier in the old days. A simple claw to the thigh would have sent the perfect message I needed to send.

But... I’m growing. I can use my words.

(Or so Laura keeps saying)

Besides- Bobby’s not all that bad.

A little eager... and a little stupid- but not terrible.

In the very least- in a very, very shallow way- he’s good in bed. And his eagerness is sometimes endearing.

It’s a messy thing the two of us are caught up in.

I don’t have the time or energy to untangle it at the moment and honestly, it involves several emotions I’d rather not focus on. So... there’s that.

Thing is- however you slice it- I’m getting better.

I’m becoming... human.

I see, in the past, however little I want to dwell on it- that I was wrong. I have done bad things.

I’m not going to make amends- some things you can’t amend.

But I can try to focus on not repeating the mistakes of the past.

I don’t need to spread misery and hate because I’m miserable and hate-filled.

At least- not every day.

We can keep that down to a few days a week.

It won’t kill me.

“Are you listening?” Gabby asks impatiently.

“Yes.” I sigh. “Peter, the giant metal Russian man, is marrying Kitty, the small ghost woman. They’ve been off and on for years in typical x-men fashion, you and Laura are invited to the wedding, our father and his wife are going to be there.” I pause. “Did I miss anything?”

Gabby crosses her arms across the table and looks at me. “Only the part where Bobby invited you.”

Ah. I didn’t ‘miss’ that. I omitted that.

I’m not going to an x-man wedding.

“It could be fun.” She says in a sing-song tone. “Really. It could be a lot of fun for you.”

Not only would that put me in the direct path of the x-men- it would put me in the direct path of Logan. And regardless of what Ororo is trying to say via text right now- he doesn’t want to see me.

The part of ‘turning me over his knee and beating the shit out of me’ comes to mind.

Not a big fan of him touching me. Let alone hitting me.

Not that I think he’d do it at a wedding.

At least- I can hope he wouldn’t.

You can never tell with that man, however.

“We’ll see,” I tell Gabby- mostly to get her off of my back.

Laura decided, in her infinite wisdom, that I should watch Gabby for the day- since I already had her and Laura didn’t have time to come pick her up.

Since all my meals have been of the liquid variety, I had to break down and take her to a local cafe to get her some food. It’s given me a good chance to sober up. Which was needed. My head is clearer than it was previously. I think getting all that tequila out of my system was a good thing.

And, thanks to my father’s genetics- there is no hangover. So... I suppose I can be grateful for that piece of kindness the universe has granted me.

Gabby takes another bite of her oversized, overpriced, burger.

“You know,” She says, mouth still filled with burger, “You and Bobby look cute together.”

“Don’t make me gag.” I take a sip of my latte.

“What?” She swallows her food. “You do.”

“Bobby is a short-term fling,” I say. “Nothing more.”

“Yea, okay.” She says sarcastically. “A short-term fling that’s lasted six months.”

I exhale loudly, counting backwards from five. “An extended short-term fling then,” I say.

“I’m just saying... if you were to marry him, he’d be our brother too. How awesome would that be?” She smiles.

“I don’t do marriage,” I say.

“Then how will you have kids?” Gabby asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I can’t,” I say offhandedly. “Romulus had me sterilized as a child.”

Gabby’s eyes get big.

“He did???”

I nod. “No distractions.”

Not to mention no blackmail for the various women he had me sleep with.

“No kids... at all?” She asks.

I shrug. “It’s never been an option, so I’ve never given it much thought.”

“That seems really mean of him.” She says. “To make that decision for you.”

Ain’t that the truth?

“He made several decisions for me,” I say dismissively. “That was one of the tamer ones.”

“I’m glad he’s not around anymore,” Gabby says. “I like that you don’t have him telling you what to do.”

I give her a half smirk but say nothing.

We talk about Romulus a lot more recently than we have.

Gabby just recently discovered him via means of a drunk Logan.

“Laura says he was cruel. He sounds like an asshole to me.”

“He was several things.” I drain the small cup in front of me. “Are you full?”

She looks at her mostly empty plate. “Yea, I think so.” She says. “What are we doing after this?”

I look around our outside seating, eyes landing on a shop down the street a small way. “I was hoping to get you another outfit,” I say. “You look like a child urchin.”

Gabby looks down at her outfit. “Hey!”

I shrug. “Do you want some clothes or not?”

She thinks about it for a second. “Okay.” She says. “But I do not look like an urchin. I’m a superhero in disguise.”

“We’ll get you a better ‘disguise’ then,” I say, pushing my chair out and standing to my feet.

I paid before we took our seats. It’s one of the things I like about this place- the system set up means there’s very little interaction with the staff. Something I’m not big on as of late.

Gabby drains her soda and stands up as well, following me as I start to walk down the sidewalk.

The shop I’m taking her to specializes in children’s clothing. Nice children’s clothing. Something that won’t scream “Laura picked this out for me!”

It’s set up in an old brick building, the windows in the front housing a variety of child-sized mannequins sporting the latest colors and trends.

Gabby opens the heavy door, setting the bell off as we walk through.

Inside is a small, but well organized and well lit, sales floor. Counters to the front of the store for paying, stacks of clothing on tables, and racks of clothing pushed towards the back of the store.

“Get what you want,” I tell her. “But I will check it to make sure it’s appropriate.”

Gabby smiles and rushes off, leaving me to stand here and look at my phone.

Ororo’s latest text says that she’d really like a chance to talk to me in person.

I ignore it.

Bobby’s text says he’d like to see me for dinner.

This is also ignored.

Laura’s text tells me that she’s spending the afternoon with Warren.

That one I respond with telling her that I can keep Gabby for the night if need be.

I understand how hard it is for her to get alone time. I owe her a few nights of babysitting for all she’s done for me.

I go through my phone for about twenty minutes before Gabby comes back with an armful of clothing. Mostly yellow. I raise an eyebrow at the color choice.

“Why so much yellow?” I ask, leafing through the clothing she’s picked out.

“It fits my personality!” She says happily.

That... I can’t dispute.

I do notice however that there aren’t many articles of clothing here along the lines of pants. Mostly tights. Oddly colored at some points- but on the whole acceptable.

“You need jeans,” I say. “You need at LEAST five different pairs on hand.”

Gabby shrugs and shoves the load of clothing into my arms. “Be back.” She says, running off into a section filled with various sizes of denim.

All in all- I was expecting her to grab more.

I certainly would have if someone else was paying.

I stand with my arms full for about five more minutes until she comes back with four pairs of jeans, three pairs of shorts, and a pair of hideous tights.

The jeans and shorts are acceptable. The tights?

“What are those?” I ask.

“Jeans.” She says.

“No- not the jeans.” I point to the green and black tights. “Those.”

“They’re for my uniform.” She says with a shrug.

“They don’t match any of your uniforms,” I say.

“I’m getting a new uniform.” Gabby smiles. “They’ll go perfectly.”

Fine. Fine. I’m not going to argue with her.

“Are you sure you got all the right sizes?” I ask.

Gabby nods. “I’m sure.”

“Do you want to try any of this on?”

“Nope.” She smiles again.

“Usually when you shop you try the clothing on before you buy it,” I say.

Gabby shrugs. “I know I look good.” She says simply.

“If you’re sure....” I mumble, walking toward the counter.

The woman behind the counter is a peppy twenty-something. Not very attractive in the traditional sense of the word, but she holds this air around her of something that men would like. Not me. But someone, surely.

The total comes out to be around 300 dollars- which Gabby’s eyes get big at.

“Do you have that much?” She whispers as I’m pulling out my debit card.

It makes me smile as the card is run. “Gabby, I’ve spent that much on a singular piece of clothing before,” I tell her. “Don’t worry. I have it.”

The woman behind the counter bags all the clothing and I pass it over to my younger sibling. “Tell Laura she’s next,” I smirk as we’re walking out.

“Yea- good luck with that.” Gabby laughs. “She is determined to wear what she’s wearing.”

“I’ll bring her around,” I say.

Out of all of us- Laura does have the worst fashion sense.

In part, because she was cloned from Logan, raised by x-men, and spent time as a prostitute. But mostly because she’s well... Laura. That’s all I can think to say about the situation.

Gabby and I go to the street where I hail us a taxi, holding the door for her to slide in so she doesn’t have to walk out into the busy street.

“We should take you shopping next!” Gabby says excitedly.

I sit down beside her and tell the cab driver where to take us.

“Really!” She says. “It will be fun!”

“My closet isn’t big enough for more clothing,” I say. “Besides- I was in Paris last week. I’m done shopping for a while.”

“You buy your clothes from Paris?” She gasps.

“I do,” I say, watching the city fly by outside of the window.

The rest of the ride is mercifully quiet. As Gabby is going through her purchases and the cab driver appears to speak very little English.

We pull up to my apartment and I pay the man, getting out and waiting for Gabby to follow.

“What’s next?” She asks.

“Anything but cartoons.” I murmur, taking the steps up to my apartment complex, nodding the man at the door.

“Okay so… what about live action Disney-”

“No,” I say flatly, hitting the large ground floor of the building and going to the spacious glass elevator. I live at the top, naturally.

Gabby hums to herself loudly as we ascend through the various floors, hitting the top with a loud “DING” and getting out.

My apartment is the last one in the hallway- there are four up here.

Gabby walks with me smiling.

I unlock the door and she rushes in, jumping on my couch and going for the remote.

“No cartoons.” I remind her, closing and locking the door behind me.

“Yea yea.” She says, flipping through the channels. Finally landing on a horror movie- some slasher flick- and settling in for a good watch.

I’m moving around my kitchen, taking stock of things I’ll need for the week when there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” She calls.

“Gabby-”

She’s at the door before I can say anything otherwise.

“Hey, Bobby!” She says happily.

I can’t keep my groan internal when I hear her let him in.

“Hey, Daken!” Gabby calls, closing the door. “Bobby’s here!”

“I heard,” I say tonelessly, standing in the doorway to my kitchen.

“Hey,” he grins sheepishly- still wearing what he was before.

“What are you doing here?” I skip the pleasantries.

“I’m here with an official apology,” he says. “Annnd a peace offering.”

“Peace offering?” I perk up at that.

“Peace offering.” he nods.

“Which is…?”

“Can I come close?” He asks.

I nod.

He moves over to me and pulls out his phone- showing me an email about reservations at my favorite restaurant.

“I’m impressed,” I say honestly.

“Oh but that’s not all!” He says in a ‘game show’ voice. “We have for your viewing pleasure- tickets to a Broadway Production that takes several several months to procure- you know the one.” He grins. “Annnnnddddd… complimentary babysitting!”

“And who is taking me?” I ask.

Bobby’s grin kinda fades. “Well.. m-”

“I know you are.” I cut him off. “That was a joke.”

He looks relieved.

“So… you’re happy?”

“I’m amused.” I agree. “But you’re still not completely off the hook.”

“I’ll take that.” He smiles. “You should go change. I’ll take Gabby back to the school.”

“What- I can’t come?” she asks indignantly.

“I need some time alone with your brother.” Bobby smiles. “If that’s okay.”

Gabby observes him for a long moment. “Fine.” She says. “But you better keep your hands above the belt, mister!”

Bobby grins. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I would.” I snort.

He shakes his head. “So… I’ll take Gabby and be back in two hours.” He says. “Sound good?”

“Decent,” I say with a smirk.

“Decent is better than ‘no’ so I’ll take it.” He turns to Gabby, “get your stuff! We’re gone!”

She grabs her bags before turning back to me. “This is a good ending to a bad day.” She says. “Bet you’re glad you didn’t leave!”

“Leave?” Bobby asks.

“It’s nothing,” I say quickly.

“He was packing when I got here!” Gabby says.

“Gabby.” I hiss.

She shrugs. “What? It’s true.”

“Logan upset you that badly?” Bobby asks in concern.

“No. He didn’t.” I growl.

“Oh my god.” he wraps me in a hug. “I’m so sorry, Daken. I am so so sorry.”

“Let me go before I wound you,” I say through gritted teeth.

Bobby graciously backs off, holding his hands in the air.

“Thank you,” I say. “Now, listen to me. Logan did not upset me- okay? No matter what your little x-mind tells you- Logan did NOT upset me.”

He nods.

“Gabby?” I ask.

She nods to.

“Right. So what are we going to tell Logan?” I prompt.

“That you’re not upset?” Bobby asks.

“No- we’re not going to tell him anything. Because to tell him anything means he’ll think that something is wrong. And NOTHING is wrong- right?”

Bobby nods. “Got it.”

“Gabby?”

She sighs. “I got it. But bottling this stuff up isn’t good for you.”

“I’ve survived this long- I think I can handle it,” I say.

Gabby walks over and hugs me. “See you later.”

I sigh and pat her back. “See you later.”

“Be good!” she picks her bags off the floor.

“I shall try my best,” I say.

Bobby nods to me. “You uh... Gonna be okay while I’m gone?”

I stare at him blankly.

“Message received,” he says quickly. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

I nod. “I mean what I said, Bobby. Do not tell Logan- okay?”

“I won’t.” He says.

Gabby leaves the apartment.

“Promise me,” I tell him.

“Daken-”

“Promise you won’t say anything to him.”

“I promise,” Bobby says. “I gotta go before your sister wanders off.”

I nod. “But remember- you promised.”

“I remember he says. I won’t say anything to Logan.” he holds his hand up again- “I promise.”

I nod again. “Good.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours. Be ready,” he says.

“I’ll be ready.” I shush him.

“Two hours,” Bobby repeats.

“Two hours.” I agree. “I will be ready in two hours.”

“Good.” he goes to the door. “I’ll see you then.”

“Goodbye.”

He hesitates at the door.

“Goodbye, Bobby,” I repeat.

He looks torn but when there’s a “Bobby- we gotta go!” From Gabby outside, he quickly closes the door.

That man.

There’s something… endearing about him.

I’m still mad- but a meal and a show go a long way as far as penance in my book.

I know that seems shallow… but I’ve always had my moments of shallowness. This is nothing new for me.

I walk to my room and see the clothes I pulled out to pack.

They think Logan upset me.

Please.

Logan didn’t upset me. He couldn’t upset me if he tried.

That’s not what happened.

That’s… that’s not what happened.

I just have to keep telling myself that.

That’s not happened.

He’s an ass. And he’s uncaring. And stupid. And Uncouth. And unsophisticated. And unintelligent. And-

And he did not upset me.

Right.

I sit on the edge of my bed.

Why am I even going out with Bobby?

Why did I accept his gifts?

Why-

OH Fuck it. I want to eat and I want to see the show. Why should I feel guilty or weird at accepting those? He’s in the wrong. Him trying to pay me back is… charming. Sweet- almost.

And at least he didn’t try to do it through sex this time. He knew things I liked and he arranged for me to have them.

There’s something so normal about that.

It’s been a while since I did ‘normal’.

Maybe that’s why I’m freaking out a little.

Maybe.

 All I know I that now I am on the hook for a dinner date. The least I can do is get dressed and look nice.

And that- I’m good at that.  
I head to my shower- it will definitely get my mind off of things.

This should do the trick.

It rarely fails.

As I’m stepping in the shower- my phone starts to vibrate.

I pick it up and check the number and fuck... FUCK.

“What do you want??” I hiss.

“A talk.” My father replies. “You busy?”

“Yes. Always.”

“I’ll be at your house in five. Get unbusy.”

He hangs up in my ear, leaving me pinching the bridge of my nose.


End file.
